Black swan

Chapter 5

As we stepped into the quirky, rusted bookstore, the scent of old paper and ink enveloped us. Dexter's laid-back reaction to our detour piqued my curiosity, but I brushed it off for the moment.

The woman behind the counter, dressed in a vintage purple velvet dress, greeted us warmly. Her presence added to the charm of the place. I couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder as I took in the shelves overflowing with books, reaching towards the ceiling.

"Hey there," I said with a smile, returning her greeting. "Just browsing for now, thanks."

Dexter nodded beside me, his eyes scanning the titles with interest. It felt like each book held its own story waiting to be discovered. There was definitely something special about this place, something that went beyond the ordinary.

Dexter sauntered away with a suspicious air, disappearing behind a small room where the lady graciously allowed him entry. The doorway was veiled by colorful beads, which jingled softly as he slipped through. Something about Dexter seemed off since the moment the other customers had departed, as if he were concealing something. My gaze lingered on the room, and curiosity propelled me to follow him quietly.

Just before I could step through the beaded curtain, a crumpled piece of paper caught my eye, lying discarded on the floor. My curiosity got the better of me, and I gingerly picked it up between my fingertips. Stepping back slightly, I carefully unraveled the paper to see what secrets it might hold.

The crumpled paper revealed a brief, cryptic message scrawled in hasty handwriting:

"Meeting tonight. Don't be late. - J"

My heart skipped a beat as I read the words. Who was "J," and what meeting were they referring to? And why was Dexter involved? The sense of unease grew stronger as I realized there was more to Dexter's mysterious behavior than I had initially suspected. With a lingering sense of trepidation, I carefully tucked the note into my pocket, vowing to uncover the truth behind Dexter's actions and the secrets he was keeping.

I returned to the bookshelves, pretending to browse as I waited for Dexter to emerge from the mysterious room. When he finally reappeared, I couldn't help but notice the subtle tension in his demeanor. Without a word, we both made our way out of the rustic bookstore, the familiar chime of the bell marking our departure echoing behind us.

As we stepped back out onto the street, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Dexter's recent actions than met the eye. With each step away from the bookstore, the mystery seemed to deepen, leaving me with a nagging sense of curiosity and apprehension. But for now, all I could do was follow Dexter's lead and wait for the right moment to uncover the truth.

"Something's on your mind?" I muttered casually, trying not to betray the fact that I knew something was amiss. Dexter sighed, his expression troubled.

"Yeah, something is," he admitted reluctantly.

"What's up?" I pressed gently, hoping to coax the truth out of him.

He hesitated for a moment before replying cryptically, "Can't say."

The frustration bubbled up within me. It was clear he was holding something back, and his evasiveness only made it more aggravating.

"You can't just not tell me?" I insisted, unable to contain my irritation.

"But I can," he replied with a hint of defiance, his gaze meeting mine briefly before turning away.

"What happened in that room?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. Dexter shot me a glare, his expression hardening as he shut down my question with a dismissive gesture.

"It's none of your business," he retorted sharply, his tone final.

Despite his response, the nagging feeling that something significant had transpired in that mysterious room lingered in the back of my mind. I couldn't shake the sense that Dexter was keeping secrets, and I was determined to uncover the truth, no matter how reluctant he was towards me and to share it. 

"Stop acting like a bitch, Dexter. Your business is my business, you said yourself you wouldn't hide anything from me," I snapped, frustration boiling over.

"I was 13 when I told you that," he shot back defensively.

"And what are you now? An old man? Please, Dexter, you're the one who should grow up," I retorted, my patience wearing thin.

"I don't want to fight you right now, Nessa. Let's move on," he pleaded, clearly trying to diffuse the situation.

I stomped my foot on the ground in frustration. "No! You either tell me or I'm not going with you!" I declared, my resolve firm.

He jerked back, caught off guard by my ultimatum. The tension between us crackled in the air, and for a moment, it seemed as though the fragile balance of our friendship hung in the balance.

"God, you're such a baby, Nessa!" Dexter snapped, his grip tightening on my arm as he forcefully led me lower through the alley.

"Get off of me!" I protested, trying to break free from his grasp.

"No," he replied stubbornly, his tone unyielding.

"Tell me what you're hiding!" I demanded, frustration lacing my voice.

"I'm not hiding anything!" he shot back, his voice tinged with exasperation.

"Then who's J?" I pressed, refusing to back down.

He let go of me suddenly, his frustration palpable as he groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fuck you," he muttered under his breath.

"Mind your own business. Stay in your lane," he added, his words sharp and biting.

"We're best friends! You're all I have, Dexter! Stop hiding things from me!" I pleaded, desperation creeping into my voice. But Dexter remained silent, his expression unreadable as he turned away, leaving me standing alone in the alley, grappling with the weight of his secrets and the fracture in our friendship.

"I'm sorry," Dexter muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the din of the street.

"Yeah, you better be," I retorted, my tone still tinged with frustration. 

"God, you're annoying," He remarked. 

"And you love me for that!" I nudged his shoulder playfully, trying to lighten the mood. He chuckled softly, the tension between us momentarily forgotten.

As we walked back to where the old man's stand was, our banter faded into silence. What we found there shattered the eerie calm that had settled between us moments before. Horror, shock, and a pool of blood greeted us, stark against the grimy pavement. I froze, my breath catching in my throat as fear gripped me like a leech. Dexter's expression was unreadable as he took in the scene before us.

Without a word, he turned and ran to find someone, leaving me standing there, my whole body shaking at the sight of the old man, lifeless and surrounded by the remnants of his final moments. The world seemed to spin around me as I struggled to comprehend the sudden and brutal end to the tranquility of the bookstore alley.

My hand trembled as I leaned down to pick up the blood-covered pieces of paper scattered near the man's hat. With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I unfolded the notes, each one bearing a chilling message.

In scrawled handwriting, they read:

"Is this good enough for you, D? - J"

The implication hit me like a ton of bricks. Dexter's involvement in whatever had transpired in that mysterious room suddenly seemed far more sinister than I had initially